that sport till we have better light to see him die?"

"I have other work on hand than drinking. Liot and I have an
account to settle at daybreak."

Ketill stared at him in astonishment.

"You mean then in very truth to fight?" he cried. "Well, do as you
wish; but it is a strange spell."

He left the poop with his horn, and Estein seated himself on a
stool, and leaning back against the bulwarks, tried to rest.

His face was set, his mind made up, and he only waited impatiently
for the hour of his trial. Sleep came to him in uneasy snatches,
during which he seemed to pass years of wild adventure, haunted
all the time by strangely distorted Oslas. He woke at last to the
chill of a grey morning and the roll of a Viking ship. With a
little shiver he started to his feet, and began to pace the deck.

Presently Helgi joined him, and laid his hand on his arm.

"Estein," he said, "tempt not your fate too far. Never before have
I seen witchcraft such as this. Why should you fear the wrath of
the gods? I tell you, my brother, you are under a spell; let us
seek some magician who will cure you, and not rashly look for
death when you are wearied with sleepless nights and black magic.
If the wrath of the gods is really on you, it will fall were you
to flee from men and seek refuge in the loneliest cave on all
these coasts. I will slay Liot Skulison for you; in fair fight if